


Prayers for Michael

by Lamamu



Series: Midam ramblings [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Adam Milligan, Pining Michael, Post-Cage, Protective Michael, midam, pining adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 22:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16504385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamamu/pseuds/Lamamu
Summary: So uh, I was looking for something and came across this benediction to the archangel Michael and INSTANTLY my Adam muse started to think naughty thoughts...Naturally, it had to be done.





	Prayers for Michael

Adam flicked through the comic, not really paying attention to the plot even though he could have sworn he read every single word. Luckily for him, the pictures helped him follow the story.. And he could always read it again later when he wasn’t so zoned out on painkillers.

Boy, was he glad Pete had given him the morphine. Now that the anaesthetic had worn off, he could feel his hand and arm throbbing in pain where he’d been cut. He could feel the pull of the stitches, the sting of the cut itself and the deep ache that came from having microsurgery on the finer, more delicate parts of his hand. Yeah, Adam could feel the pain, but the morphine removed the ability to care about it from the forefront of his conscious mind.

It was as if it the pain had been detached, and was sitting next to him on the bed. Present, but not a bother. Not right now, anyway.

He was tired, but not tired enough to sleep, which was surprising enough, given how little the blonde actually slept, and that his sleep was always plagued with dreams. Sometimes nightmares that he didn’t quite remember when he woke up. Adam didn’t _ever_ examine those too closely because he knew what they were.

One day he’d have to face the memory of the cage, but he would be happy to pray to God that it wasn’t any time soon. He’d pray to Michael to thank him for what he still hadn’t admitted to doing for him.. But..

The thought of praying to Michael again made Adam’s heart lurch in his chest, and he sighed mournfully, the pleasant buzz of his morphine induced state keeping him from being too upset at the way everything was just always.. Wrong.

If one of them was having a bad day and they crossed paths they were at each other's’ throats, deliberately going out of their way to snap at the other until both were miserable...

...If they were both having a good day, it was so awkward Michael ended up leaving before anything resembling friendship could start to build...leaving Adam miserable, and Michael.. Well Adam just didn’t know.

How could he?

They needed to move past it. It wasn’t healthy, the way it was now… and Adam didn’t think staying out of each others’ lives was possible. Not now, or ever. Though really, all Michael had to do was wait for Adam to die, whether from old age or something else.. And he’d be free of the human that had stolen his purity.

Would it be that simple though? Michael was eternal, and the memory would be with him forever, even if Adam’s soul moved on and into Heaven, forgetting the life he’d left behind.. Michael would a l w a y s remember.

Adam’s mind just about exploded from the awakening, and he shot forward on the bed, ignoring the flash of pain that shot from his palm, up his arm and through his stoned body.

He reached over to his bedside, fumbling for his pills and tossed another couple down, hoping they’d kick in as the others wore off.

_“Damn…”_

It had taken him a while, but the blonde had eventually come around to something, a realisation. Sure, he loved Michael. He loved him more than he’d ever thought possible… and if he thought harder, he’d know it wasn’t a one way street. But that wasn’t it. Nor was the fact that Michael just didn’t know how to process it, or didn’t want to.

What had Adam sitting there, slowly blinking and completely ashamed of himself in his zoned out mind was the fact that he was out of his league... in love with an archangel.

An archangel.

Like.. one of Heaven’s fiercest weapons, the leader of every angel that _ever_ existed.. And he was treating him like he was just another human. He wasn’t.. What Michael was didn’t even come close... And Adam didn’t think he ever had shown Michael the respect he was due both as an archangel and the one that he’d fallen so hard for that he didn’t think there would ever be anyone else.

It was surreal, realising that ever since he’d gotten his memories back he’d done nothing but mope and argue, demand and complain. Even though he’d told himself not to, that he was giving Michael space, Adam knew it wasn’t true. The worst thing was, that he wasn’t even sure if he could stop.

“Woah…”

Sure, he was high on morphine, and would probably see things differently in the morning or when the painkillers wore off, but for the moment, the first thing in Adam’s remarkably calm mind was that he had to make it right.

Somehow.

Fingering the pages of his comic book, Adam tried to think. He sighed, and tilted his head down to stare at the pages, but his eyes found the card that had slipped from between them instead. With a small frown he picked it up and turned it over again to read, _really_ read the prayer that was printed on the other side.

Was this.. What people did?

Is this… what _he_ should do?

Show some reverence for the archangel that had saved his soul and sheltered him from the worst that the cage had to offer when he had no reason to? The one that had saved his life from another angel, then sacrificed their friendship so that Adam could live on without the baggage of everything and everyone? Sure, Michael had said it was the heat of the moment… but that was after things had gone south... even in his zoned out state Adam would tell himself that.

_Did angels even act in the heat of the moment?_

Adam’s fingertips slid over the edges of the card, tipping it from end to end as he mulled it over.

It.. couldn’t hurt.

Right? Right. And besides, only Michael would hear it.

“Directly connected to the Divine, and to All That Is...”

The words caught in Adam’s throat. He sounded like an idiot, sitting there reading something that a little old lady had written and printed in her boredom.

“...I now call upon.. _shit,_ I can’t..”

Even through his current mental fog, it hurt his heart to reach out when he had told himself not to… and had managed to do for about a week now. Maybe longer.

“This isn’t about you, idiot.”

Adam fell backwards onto his pillows again, wiped a hand down the side of his face and held the card up again, determined to recite the damn prayer and do what he’d set out to do.

“.. I now call upon Archangel Michael.

   ….Archangel Michael, please come in and connect with me _now.._ ”

….Adam coughed suddenly. The double meaning that had just popped into his mind was definitely, _definitely_ not supposed to happen, but damn, if his heart didn’t speed up a little when the innuendo filled words parted from his lips.

“I ask that you protect me, uplift me and inspire me to live in alignment with my highest and greatest good.”

So far, so good. Adam pushed on, though his heart hadn’t slowed. If anything, his breathing had gotten a little shallower.

“Surround me with your wings of love and..stand before me, blessing my..”

Oh, damn. He couldn’t help it, every single word that left his mouth had started to take on suggestive qualities, and Adam was beginning to doubt his course of action.

“.. energy with your angelic qualities of strength..”

Adam closed his eyes briefly, trying not to picture what Michael’s wings would look like, what they’d f e e l like wrapped around him while the archangel showed him exactly what his ‘angelic qualities of strength’ were like. If it was anything remotely close to what he was imagining... Adam shifted on the bed noting with a groan of despair mixed with frustration that his body had started to react to what was going through his mind.

Great, he was praying to the Viceroy of Heaven with a boner.

“Strength, courage and truth. Please clear my energy and vibration, completely releasing all negative energy, limiting beliefs, fears, illusions, and negative energetic imprints present in my energy and physical being…”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Except for the vibrating, the release and the imprints. And the energy. Not that he was thinking about how much energy an archangel might have.. And for how long he’d have it for. Or how utterly, wonderfully spent Adam would be after hours at the mercy of Michael’s desires. No, Adam wasn’t thinking about that at all.

“Please release anything that is blocking me from fully and c o m p l e t e l y experiencing the love and light present in every moment.”

It was lucky that Adam had one hand bandaged up so tight he couldn’t form a fist and the other was holding the card, or he’d probably be in worse state by now. He pushed his head back into the pillows and closed his eyes, willing his breathing to even out, and for his cock to behave itself.

Now really just wasn’t the time. He couldn’t. But damn, if he didn’t want some friction right now. Just a little...his bandaged hand, previously resting on his stomach slid lower before he registered it was moving. _Traitor._

“Shit..”

Shit.. now he’d gone and not only had dirty thoughts about Michael while he was trying to be pure and honest.. He’d cursed in the middle of his prayer while his turncoat of a hand had gone south to slide back and forth on the outside of his pants.

Michael was probably thinking about how many ways he could kill him, right about now… but Adam couldn’t help the stray thought that ran through his mind.

_'This could have been a thing you know.. Like sexting.. Only prayer.'_

And t h a t thought only made everything worse.

“Release all that no longer serves me into the light of the Divine…”

_Keep going._

“And fill the void.”

Adam’s bandaged hand pressed down, applying pressure to his aching member as images flashed through his mind, one after the other of Michael doing exactly that. Filling him up. Oh. Yes. Adam remembered t h a t… even if it had been him that had taken the lead..

The groan that left him was more like a needy whine this time, but Adam didn’t try to stop it.

“.. with unconditional love, light and compassion.”

Oh, how he yearned for that love..

“Archangel Michael, I ask that you use your s w o r d of light..”

_Fuck_ , it wasn’t getting any better. Sword of.. The aching need for Michael to come and show him what that _sword_ could do exploded into a more primal, carnal lust, and for a few moments Adam lost control of his thoughts, and he send those images on to the archangel.

_'Are you getting this, Michael? How does it make you f e e l?'_

“To cut away all doubt, fear, guilt or negativity which is around me.”

_'Hold me, protect me, love me.'_

“Cut away any and all cords which are draining my energy and vitality across the lines of time, and assist me in reintegrating my light and personal power which has been drained, back into my being now.”

It was a generic prayer, but to Adam it was so much more. That last part brought him a small modicum of peace, and if he knew how, he would have felt his soul reaching for the archangel’s light, seeking the solace that only Michael could give.

“Please guide me on my path and help me to accomplish my authentic purpose,”

Adam’s hips rolled lazily upwards as he pressed down again with his stitched hand, unable to do anything more than give friction where he wanted hands and a body that weren’t his own.

_'My authentic purpose is you.'_

“... according to Divine will, for the highest and greatest good, and so it is.”

_'And the Divine will is yours. The highest and greatest good, is you, inside me.'_

Damn, it was lucky Adam was so high, or he’d be mortified on so many levels he’d never want to see Michael and his beautiful, moody face ever again. He was _just_ focused enough from stopping himself from dropping the card and taking himself in his good hand to make a proper job of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a burning desire to not waste a good boner.

And boy, was it a good one. By now, Adam’s heart was racing. His breath came in shallow bursts, and he was sure he was about to catch on fire, he was burning so hot with a need for the archangel to come to him and just… hell, he could do whatever he wanted. Adam was so far gone he’d probably come if the archangel did nothing but say his name.

Just a bit further. One more line and it would be done.

“Thank you, Amen.”

Fuck, Adam had never done anything so hard in his life, he was sure of it. Letting the card drop to the mattress, the blonde threw his hand over his eyes, very deliberately _not_ sending his hand into his pyjama pants like he so desperately wanted to do.

_Breathe._

In… out..in.. _calm thoughts_.. out.

Nope, still rock hard.

This just wouldn’t do. Adam rolled himself sideways with a groan and sat up with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He didn’t his best to ignore his lower half as he worked up the energy to move to the bathroom down the hall, but between his exhaustion and the day that he’d had, and the medication he’d taken, it was a slow process.

A cold shower was on his mind, but before Adam could do anything like stand up, a wave of dizziness overcame him, and he fell backwards again, hitting the mattress with a soft grunt. Seconds later, the blond had passed out. The dose of morphine that he’d taken finally kicked in, saving him from anything else that might happen.

For the next six hours or so, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Michael. I have it on very good authority that he is tempted, hurt, confused and absolutely convinced that Adam is playing some kind of cruel joke on him.
> 
> ....and Adam thinks it was just a weird sex dream.
> 
> Stay tuned.. this is where we are up to in The Great Tragedy Of Midam.


End file.
